


Sweet Omega

by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite



Series: Hannibal JFMU 2020 [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bitching, Body Modification, Bondage, Breeding, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Forced Bonding, Forced Breeding, Graphic Rape, Just Fuck Me Up Hannigram Fest 2020, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Physical Abuse, Rough Sex, binding, forced mating, jfmu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratumgermanitivum/pseuds/stratumgermanitivum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/pseuds/whiskeyandspite
Summary: “Do you know we are all blessed with an organ in which to carry life?” Hannibal squeezed against Will’s ass gently before moving away, stepping around him to crouch eventually by Will’s face. “It lies dormant in Alphas, similarly to how their nipples do not produce milk. But with the proper cocktail of hormones, those things can be awoken in any healthy body.”Bitching. Plain and simple.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Hannibal JFMU 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690183
Comments: 71
Kudos: 780
Collections: Just Fuck Me Up 2020





	Sweet Omega

**Author's Note:**

> Came from a couple of ideas on the kinkmeme and just our sick, sick minds.
> 
> Welcome to #JFMU week :D we'll be posting almost every day from now til next Monday.

Will had thought about it more than once, a passing thought, a fleeting glance. He was probably, all things considered, just a little bit queer. 

He’d never done anything about it, of course. Why go through all the trouble of courting another Alpha when Omegas were plentiful, and less likely to split open and bleed on his knot? 

But face to face with Hannibal Lecter, Will felt the old thought creeping up again.  _ What if, _ whispered the back of his mind. 

And that Hannibal had asked him to dinner at his home- ethical dilemmas notwithstanding- only fueled that fire. 

“There needn’t be any ethical dilemmas,” Hannibal told him over wine and loin. “Are you my patient or are we merely having conversations?”

“That depends,” Will said. “Is this a date, or are we merely having dinner?”

Hannibal’s smile was placid and cool, and Will felt it spark something in him that felt a lot like panic. He suddenly didn’t want to hear the answer. Suddenly he knew it.

“How would you feel if we were to engage in a courtship, Will?”

Will nearly choked on the mouthful of wine he’d taken. When he looked at Hannibal, the man was placing a carefully cut piece of meat between his teeth, tugging it into his mouth.

“Curious,” Will admitted. “It seems biologically counterintuitive to begin a courtship with someone of the same dynamic.”

“Why?”

Will shrugged. “Among other reasons, there would be no sexual satisfaction during rut for Alphas and heat for Omegas.”

Hannibal tilted his head, considering. “Does that bother you?”

Will felt his brows furrow, his cheeks warm. Why would it matter?  _ You know why it matters. _

“Yes.” He said finally. “I haven’t the strength or desire to court an Omega, or pass on my genes. The stress is exponentially higher if I were to pursue someone of my own dynamic. Why, does it bother  _ you?” _

“I’m seldom bothered by anything,” Hannibal said. “Dynamic doesn’t affect my interest in someone.”

That didn’t surprise Will as much as it should have. Hannibal was an odd sort of person, someone who seemed to exist just beyond typical social constraints. 

“It’s a lot more work to break the mold,” Will murmured.

“I like a challenge.”

Hannibal was definitely flirting with him. Will should have brushed him off. He  _ wanted _ to brush him off. 

But he also wanted to sate the curiosity that burned within him. Will’s hand clenched on the wine glass. 

“I should go,” he forced himself to say. “I’m sorry, Hannibal. It’s not you. This was… this was a bad idea.”

“Was it?”

Will drained his wineglass and nodded, tossing his napkin to the table as he stood to leave. He’d call in to Jack when he got home, explain that therapy just  _ wasn’t his thing _ and that if Jack absolutely demanded he go that he and Dr. Lecter had a conflict of interest and could no longer work together.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“Did you enjoy the wine?” Hannibal inquired. Will nodded, distracted.

“Yes, the wine too. Thank you.”

“It’s a special vintage,” Hannibal told him, not moving to stand even as Will turned around himself checking his pockets and for anything he might have left on the table. He turned his own glass, untouched, by the stem, before letting his hand settle on his cutlery again. “A reserve I’ve been keeping for when we finally shared dinner together.”

Will looked at him then, eyes narrowed in confusion. Then he blinked, to get Hannibal in focus again when he suddenly slid out of it. Hannibal cut himself another piece of loin and placed it in his mouth as Will caught a hand against the table.

The world was spinning.

“Hannibal -”

“You may feel a little light-headed,” Hannibal told him pleasantly, as Will pushed both hands to the tabletop to keep himself standing. “But that should pass quickly.”

“What did you fucking do to me?”

“Took away the inhibitions keeping your curiosity from stretching its limbs,” Hannibal replied, hands folded now as he watched Will swaying, his legs growing weaker and weaker beneath him. “A remarkable boy like you is too special for the world to share and manipulate. It’s imperative we break the mold.”

“Hannibal, can we just -”

Will didn’t remember falling. 

He didn’t remember fainting. 

In fact when his groggy mind forced rusty cogs to turn again, he couldn’t recall much of their dinner conversation at all, just an overwhelming sinking feeling in his belly the longer they sat together.

* * *

Will became aware, first, of a cramp in his limbs. He made a soft noise, turning his face into the stiff pillow he rested on. His body wouldn’t respond. He wanted to stretch his legs, but all he could do was manage the slightest flutter of his fingers. Everything else was exhausting, nauseating. 

He became aware of his nudity, next, when a warm hand skated up his spine to rest in his hair. He groaned, lips moving uselessly as he tried to speak. 

“Shh…” gentle fingers massaged at the base of his skull. “Don’t rush it. We have plenty of time.”

Time for  _ what?  _ Will shifted his fingers again, this time feeling the IV being fed into his left hand. 

Hannibal’s hand drifted down his back again, cupping his ass. Will flinched and finally,  _ finally _ became aware of the straps holding him down. 

With an uneasy moan, Will opened his eyes, struggling to adjust to the dim lighting. The leather pillow beneath his head finally made sense. 

He’d been strapped into a classic Omega breeding bench. Excessively strapped, at wrists, elbows, ankles, knees, hips… and then some extra straps along the way to make absolutely certain he couldn’t wriggle out of position. There was even one firmly over his neck, holding his head down against the padded headrest. 

Will jerked, tugging uselessly at his wrists. “No,” he said, still too hazy to manage anything more. 

“Change is frightening,” Hannibal agreed, as though this were nothing out of the ordinary, as though Will had just decided he didn’t want to stretch his palette for a new dish. “But without change, the human race would not evolve, would not grow and become greater.”

Will was slowly coming back to himself. Too slowly, but enough that his struggle became frantic; jerking motions trying to get his limbs to move, trying to get some sort of  _ give _ where Hannibal had so deliberately pinned him down.

“The human race isn’t dying,” Will said, breathless in his panic. “We’re not going  _ extinct, _ Hannibal, let me go!”

“The human body is capable of extraordinary things, when the need arises,” Hannibal continued.

“There is no  _ need _ Hannibal!”

“Do you know we are all blessed with an organ in which to carry life?” Hannibal squeezed against Will’s ass gently before moving away, stepping around him to crouch eventually by Will’s face. “It lies dormant in Alphas, similarly to how their nipples do not produce milk. But with the proper cocktail of hormones, those things can be awoken in any healthy body.”

“What is wrong with you?” Will spat, eyes wide in panic. He understood perfectly well what Hannibal was saying, he could see that Hannibal knew it, but there was still a vestige of hope within him that he could find a common language, a way to talk himself free from this before it went too far. Hannibal hummed and straightened again, moving to stand behind Will once more.

“You are not so old as to have your fertility deadened,” Hannibal explained. He parted Will’s cheeks, exposing Will’s entrance to the room. “We are all, in a sense, unisex, ready to shift given the right prompting.”

A cold drizzle of lubrication startled Will badly enough that the straps cut painfully into his skin. 

“Hannibal, don’t!” He yelped, closing his eyes as Hannibal eased a finger into his clenching entrance.

“It will be difficult, at first. I’ll do whatever I can to make things easier on you, but I cannot stop the pain entirely.”

Will dug his nails into the leather, wishing he could lash out, shake his head,  _ anything _ . “Stop, stop, what the  _ fuck?” _

“You need a steady input of hormones, a medication you will need to supplement for the rest of your life, since your body does not provide them on its own. In addition, the presence of Alpha pheromones will help guide the transition and induce a preheat state. It’s been done before.”

“ _ Consensually _ ,” Will spat. “You’re talking about couples going through doctor-assisted hormone therapy, and it’s a new study, not  _ this-“ _ Will cut off with a yelp as Hannibal slid another finger into him. 

“I am a doctor,” Hannibal reminded him, infuriatingly patient as Will cried out and groaned, tensing his muscles so much he could feel Hannibal’s fingers press painfully against each other.

A sharp slap against his thigh, then another, was enough to shock him into relaxing for a moment, and Hannibal used it to push another finger into him, spreading them like a goddamn speculum to open Will up.

“Do not fight me, Will,” Hannibal softly advised him. “One way or another, this is going to happen for the two of us. I would rather it not involve blood.”

“I would  _ rather _ it not happen at all!” Will screamed. He knew no one would hear him. He knew no one would even fucking look for him; his self-isolation especially after a difficult case was not only notorious but expected, and by the time someone bothered to check, to look -

“Hannibal. Han - can we talk? Just talk about this. Like grown men. Like  _ sane men _ .”

“No, Will,” Hannibal replied, sounding almost sad. “Because you will not listen to me when we talk about it. You will find reasons to prevent this from happening. But this way, your body makes the decision for you, your body overcomes your mind, and the mind only processes.”

“I don’t want this!” Will sobbed, digging his forehead into the cushion beneath his head and opening his mouth to scream, raw and loud, until he ran out of air and energy to keep it up. Behind him, Hannibal dripped more lubricant against the fingers already penetrating Will, and turned his hand.

“You will,” Hannibal promised him, seeking out Will’s prostate with unnerving accuracy. Will bit back a groan as Hannibal rubbed at the spot. “Not at first, unfortunately, but together we will teach your body to respond to me, my pheromones, my scent.”

“That’s… that’s  _ sexist _ ,” Will said, because he had to say  _ something.  _

“Yet also accurate. Omega rights have come far, as they should, but Omegas still crave their Alphas.”

Will let out a helpless, horrified laugh. Hannibal nudged a fourth finger at his hole. “No, don’t-“

“If I don’t,” Hannibal explained patiently, “then my knot will be too much of an adjustment, and you might tear.”

Will knew the biology. It wasn’t uncommon for Alpha’s to experiment, but the elasticity and grip found in Omega bodies was a result of hormones Will’s body simply didn’t possess. It wasn’t going to fit, and the thought renewed Will’s panicked struggles. 

Behind him, Hannibal sighed. He pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the back of Will’s thigh. “Alright. We’ll do things the difficult way, until you come around to my way.”

“I won’t,” Will assured him, trying to catch his breath, trying to squirm his hands free. Then he heard it, the sound of Hannibal’s zipper, the sound of fabric against fabric, the sound of slick skin to skin. “Hannibal, no, NO -”

Hannibal rocked up against him, just letting his cock slide between Will’s cheeks as the other Alpha squirmed in panic beneath him, then, with a hum, he set his hand flat and wide against Will’s lower back and prodded more deliberately against Will’s opening.

“The more you relax, the less this will hurt, Will,” Hannibal told him. Will knew he was right, but how,  _ how - _

“Please, please don’t, please don’t do this, Hannibal, please -”

Hannibal pressed closer, guiding himself into Will’s tight hole, groaning softly when just the head slipped in before Will cried out, helplessly, and bore down hard.

“I tried to make it easier,” Hannibal lectured. “I tried to make it nicer for you, Will, but you fought me.”

“Stop it, stop it, please -”

“Don’t fight me now, Will. You will do yourself a lot of harm.”

“Do it the nice way,” Will said, panicked. “I take it back, I-“

“Next time,” Hannibal said, pushing forward another inch, “if you behave yourself.”

Will’s voice broke, a cracked sob wrenching itself from his lips. Hannibal had slicked Will and himself thoroughly, but Will was too anxious and Hannibal too big. Hannibal pushed in further and further, until his hips brushed Will’s ass and Will felt like he would split in two. 

“Take it out,” Will begged, stretched to the breaking point. “God, Hannibal, it hurts.”

“It doesn’t,” Hannibal chided, circling his hips against Will’s ass. “It may burn a bit, or be uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“What the hell do  _ you _ know about it?”

“The  _ knot _ will hurt,” Hannibal continued, as if Will hadn’t spoken, “but that’s unavoidable. We can only hope you relax enough to avoid tearing.”

“Don’t.” 

Hannibal pulled back and ground forward again. 

“Hannibal,  _ don’t!” _

But there was no stopping him now, no matter how Will pulled at the straps. Hannibal set up a slow, steady rhythm, reaching between Will’s legs to find his soft cock. 

“A shame there’s nothing to be done about this,” He said, rubbing his thumb over the head. “A cage, perhaps, to alter the size as much as we can.”

Will keened, a high and helpless sound of pain. He was beyond words, just then, beyond basic comprehension beyond  _ hurts _ and  _ stop _ and  _ why. _

_ Why are you doing this? _

_ Why me? _

“There is great pleasure to be found from prostate stimulation alone, a deeper, more intense orgasm than merely masturbating the penis.” Hannibal continued to touch, continued to manipulate Will’s body as he wanted, but found the Alpha couldn’t get hard.

Curious.

Certainly something to consider as they progressed with Will’s transition.

And while Will remained flaccid, Hannibal’s knot started to swell at the base of his cock, from the pressure of Will, the heat of him, the sounds he made as he helplessly twisted and sobbed beneath him. Will was a beautiful thing, truly remarkable, and Hannibal would own him body and soul. And he would see, in the end, Will would see that this was the only way this could have gone,  _ should _ have gone, from the beginning.

As Hannibal’s thrusts became harsher, pushing deeper and deeper into Will’s restrained form, the pain edged itself with a humming sort of non-pain. Will couldn’t call it pleasure, this felt far from anything pleasurable, but it wasn’t agony, it wasn’t the constant gnawing of sharp pain in his ass and bowels as Hannibal attempted to  _ breed him _ .

But then the pressure tightened, grew hotter, and Will gasped as Hannibal’s knot nudged against his rim.

“Hannibal stop,” he whimpered. “Stop, please, not this, please not this  _ please - _ ”

“Let me in, Will,” Hannibal purred. “Accept that this is going to happen, and it will hurt less for you.”

Will couldn’t. His body screamed at him, he clenched up, instinctively trying to keep Hannibal out. 

Hannibal kept pushing, leaning forward to dig his teeth into the nape of Will’s neck. In an Omega, the pressure point would signal a release of hormones that would make him go lax. In Will, it just hurt. 

Hannibal groaned softly as he came. It was drowned out by Will’s pained whine as he stretched and stretched and  _ tore _ . 

After a moment where he just licked at the indentations he’d made, Hannibal straightened and sighed. 

“You’ve torn yourself,” he said with a disapproving ‘tsk.’ Every shift sent another flash of stinging pain through Will. He felt too full, as if Hannibal might fuck right through his belly. 

“ _ You,”  _ Will accused, but further words failed him. 

He hurt, he ached, he was humiliated, and - if truth be told - he felt so betrayed. He’d trusted Hannibal with his thoughts and opinions. He’d trusted him as a professional. But more than that, he’d begun to grow closer to him, they had started to get ‘friendly’ as Hannibal had once jokingly suggested they might.

And now this.

This violation, this dehumanization.

Without a word, Will turned his face into the cushion and felt the tears come, silent and hot against his cheek. He wouldn’t give Hannibal the pleasure of seeing him cry, he wouldn’t give him the pleasure of more responses beyond hisses of pain and groans of displeasure. He wouldn’t give him anything, so that he couldn’t take more.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, with Hannibal rocking against him as though he were an Omega and the knot would help the mating take, but when Hannibal pulled free, Will cried out and sobbed, biting his lip hard after to keep any other sounds from escaping.

When a heavy hand dropped to rest against his hair, Will flinched back. “Don’t touch me.”

“You need to absorb my scent and my pheremones. It will make the transition easier.”

“Fuck off,” Will whispered. 

Hannibal hummed and began to massage Will’s scalp with the pads of his fingers, working at the tension that built up in a Will’s body. “You’ll have some time to yourself between matings. It will take a few days for the effects to take.”

A few days trapped like this. 

Now that Hannibal had stopped hurting him, Will was aware of his limbs again, of the cramps that had begun to settle into them. With a growing sense of dread, he asked “how will I sleep?”

Hannibal shifted behind him once more, thumbing at Will’s torn hole. “Just like this,” he said, pressing something thick and solid at Will’s entrance. “The IV will keep you hydrated, though I’m afraid meals will have to wait until you’re more malleable.” He forced the plug into place, ignoring Will’s hiss of pain. 

“What about the  _ bathroom _ ,” Will asked, voice vicious. “Hygiene? Atrophy of my  _ fucking _ muscles, Hannibal?”

“I will bathe you daily,” Hannibal replied, voice just as steady, just as logical, as though there was nothing wrong here at all. “I could insert a catheter, if you wish, but it may make ejaculation painful for you. Otherwise, you may relieve yourself as you need, there is a bedpan beneath you.”

“You’re sick.”

“As for your muscles, I will release one limb at a time and provide a deep tissue massage to keep you comfortable,” Hannibal continued. “Once you have settled into your new role, you will, of course, have much more comfortable accommodations.”

“Oh, will I?” Will snorted. “How kind of you.”

“It is in both of our interests that you accept this, Will,” Hannibal murmured, gently stroking his thighs before moving away. What Will felt against his skin next was a light blanket that warmed him immediately. “It is happening, and will continue to happen, until your body accepts its new dynamic. The transition may be painful, but the level of pain is dependent on your cooperation.”

“Just go away,” Will told him, turning his face into the uncomfortable cushion. “Leave me alone. If this is time to myself I want it  _ to myself _ .”

“As you wish,” Hannibal bent to press a kiss to Will’s hair, drawing a displeased growl from him. “Rest well, Will. I will see you in a few hours.”

The moment Hannibal was gone, Will began to fight, tugging at the straps with all his strength. He only succeeded in hurting himself, the straps leaving red marks across his body and the wide plug shifting inside him with every motion. Will fought so violently that the blanket slipped from his body, and by the time he gave up, sweat was chilling unpleasantly on his skin. 

He rested, but not well, shifting in and out of a hazy state that was more dissociation than true sleep. 

By the time Hannibal returned, he was shivering, limbs and bladder screaming. 

“Let me up,” he begged as Hannibal began to pull at the plug. “God, please, Hannibal, bind me, chain me, just please let me up.”

“You’ll get a massage after our next session,” Hannibal promised him, pushing more lube into Will’s aching body with two fingers. “Provided you take me without a fight this time.”

“How often do we have to do this?”

“As often as my body will allow. I’ve considered inducing a rut, but I want to be able to monitor your progress.”

“Progress,” Will laughed joylessly. “Hannibal you made me bleed, you filled me up. My body can’t  _ take that _ as often as an Omega in heat, I’ll  _ break _ .”

“You won’t,” Hannibal assured him, and Will laughed again, just as helpless. “The more you relax, the less it will hurt you. The more often your body is subject to this, the quicker the transition will begin naturally.”

“This isn’t natural,” Will insisted, but then bit his tongue. There was no point, none whatsoever. Hannibal would not listen, would not stop, until he got his way or Will died from it.

Perhaps because he was exhausted, perhaps because everything else ached just as much, but this time Will didn’t fight Hannibal’s penetration of him. It was easier, too, because he’d been kept gaping by the plug, and there was still lube and semen within him to ease the way. It hardly made Will feel any better, nor the sensations feel less invasive. Humiliatingly, he emptied his bladder when Hannibal’s fingers teased too close, but the doctor didn’t comment on it. Will supposed he was owed  _ one _ iota of relief in this madness.

By the time Hannibal had three fingers in Will, the other was squirming again, unable to just stay still and take it, unwilling to.

“Look how much better it is when you let me in,” Hannibal murmured, bending over Will to press a kiss to his shoulder. His lips were painfully hot after the chill of the room, and Will shuddered, at once aching for more warmth and hating how good it felt.

As Hannibal lined up against him, Will bit hard against the leather cushion and closed his eyes.

It burned like hell, ripping at injuries that had just begun to heal. Will dug his teeth into the leather headrest, trying to breathe through it. 

“Shh,” Hannibal whispered, draping his heavy, warm body over Will’s back. The heat was irresistible after hours of chill. It soothed the horrible shivers that had begun to take over Will’s body, and Will sank beneath it despite himself. “There we go.”

“Please,” Will whispered, helpless and lost. 

“Let’s see what we can do about making you come this time.”

Hannibal moved slower, rocking steadily in Will’s aching body. He fit this time, at least for now, but there was little pleasure to be found. Will closed his eyes and tried to drift, and that was the moment Hannibal twisted something on the bench. 

The head of the bench dropped, shifting Will into a steep incline, his hips propped up a little further. Hannibal’s next thrust grazed his prostate, sending a confused and uncomfortable feeling through Will. 

He gasped, releasing the leather from between his teeth in surprise, and winced. Pain still overwhelmed him, but now there was a heat gently stirring in the pool of his belly that wasn't unpleasant. He didn't want that. He didn't. As soon as he felt any sort of pleasure Will knew he'd be lost; Hannibal would take it as acquiescence, as submission, and never let Will go.

"Stop -" he tried, but the more Hannibal teased inside him the better it felt and Will found himself rocking back against the Alpha despite himself.

"You feel extraordinary, Will," Hannibal told him, and Will bared his teeth again. He didn't want this, he didn't, not any of it, and yet -

His cock was growing thick through the hole in the bench it hung through, not nearly enough to swell a knot but enough that he was sensitive and seeking more pleasure. And he could smell Hannibal better, that smokey musk of him that had always felt pleasant to Will's nose now overwhelmed him and cemented in his mind the connection between that and the thick thrusting into his body.

"There is no reason we shouldn't both feel pleasure," Hannibal whispered to him, lips tickling against Will's ear. "No reason why this transition can't be a discovery of desires unfulfilled for us both."

“I don’t want it,” Will hissed. “Take whatever you want, just let me hate it.”

“Your responses are your own,” Hannibal told him. “I’ve done nothing but seek my own pleasure.”

Will squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as much as the straps would allow. Hannibal wrapped a hand around his cock. 

“Let me spoil you for a moment,” he said, gently stroking Will’s growing erection. “We can work on training a proper response next time.”

“I said I didn’t want it!” Will’s nails scraped the bench, his breath coming in sharp pants. 

“I know you expect suffering,” Hannibal explained patiently, “but as your Alpha, I intend to spoil and coddle you as an Omega should be treated. We just need to get through this difficult process first.”

“You are  _ not _ my Alpha!” Will snarled, digging his nails into the leather as Hannibal continued to fuck him, his hand so practiced between Will’s legs, so comforting when everything else was madness and pain. “I don’t want you to  _ touch me _ , I don’t want  _ anything _ from you!”

“Strong emotions may present strangely when you’re overwhelmed, Will,” Hannibal told him, and the other man yelled, a harsh and low sound deep from his stomach as he tried to buck Hannibal off him. The movement resulted in Hannibal thrusting deeper, in Will’s cock pulsing faster into Hannibal’s waiting hand.

“I  _ hate you.” _ Will screamed, digging his nails into the leather, his forehead into the cushion. His body reacted without permission, pleasure building up in the pit of his belly until he was coming, thick and hot, against Hannibal’s waiting fingers.

When he recovered enough to see straight again, Will lifted his head as much as he was able, and dropped it to the cushion beneath. Then he did it again. And again. Until fingers gripped Will’s hair and held him still, stopping him from hurting himself. Will barely registered the agony of Hannibal’s knot, could only hear his own panting breaths, his own racing heart as he looked wildly around the room for something, anything, that could free him.

He knew there wasn’t anything. He knew he was alone.

“Why do you fight me like this?” Hannibal asked him, voice still so patient, still so  _ warm _ . “I know it’s frightening, but I am here with you, Will, I’m not going anywhere. Not ever again.”

Tears welled up in Will’s eyes. He felt claustrophobic, trapped so securely in place. He didn’t bother to answer, nothing he said mattered. 

Hannibal wouldn’t stop touching him, hands gentle and warm as they pet Will’s flanks, gently testing each strap to make sure Will wasn’t injured. 

When he finally pulled out, he plugged Will up again, covering him once more with the blanket. This time he tucked the edge into the strap at Will’s neck, securing it in place. Will tried not to feel thankful. 

He didn’t sleep this time. Pain had settled in, bone deep. His body couldn’t handle being kept so still. By the time Hannibal returned, he was sobbing, begging for relief. 

Hannibal fucked him, plugged him, massaged each of Will’s limbs until his sobs turned to hiccups. 

He fucked him again, and again. Will’s only sense of the passage of time was how hungry he grew, how many times Hannibal changed out the IV bag. 

Will weakened as the hours passed. He lay limp on the bench, feeling gross and sticky no matter how many times Hannibal wiped him down with a washcloth. 

Eventually, he started to recognize Hannibal’s scent, associating it with contact, with  _ something _ other than laying alone in the dark. Eventually, Hannibal stepped into the room to find Will hardening at the very smell of him. 

“Sweet boy,” Hannibal praised him. “You know me.”

“There’s no one else to know,” Will mumbled, exhausted. He’d clawed away a good portion of the hand rests, leaving just the wood and metal structure beneath. He’d similarly chewed at the cushion beneath his head, leaving him only a few positions he could comfortably hold before it got too painful.

He didn’t flinch, now, when Hannibal stepped up to adjust the IV, injecting something into the base, though he did notice that he felt a little warmer when the liquid dripped once more. He didn’t hiss when Hannibal touched his hair, but he did close his eyes to avoid seeing him.

His own mantra to stay strong, to endure, to not give him the pleasure was fading into the background, replaced with Hannibal’s soft assurances, reminders, praises.

_ Sweet boy. Good boy. My Omega. Let me in. Let me spoil you, coddle you, love you, treat you, pleasure you - _

“What hurts?” Hannibal asked him gently. Will licked his lips.

“Everything. I feel like I’m bleeding from a thousand cuts.”

“You’re not,” Hannibal told him, kneeling down to press his forehead to Will’s. It was the first time Will didn’t immediately try to snap his teeth at him when he did. “You’re adjusting. Your body is learning. The mind will follow, just let it.”

“Don’t you know what you’re asking of me?” Will whispered. Hannibal nuzzled their noses together. 

“Sweet boy. I know. I know I’ve asked you to work so hard. Just a little bit longer, and everything will be easier. The bond bite will help.”

“Have to be in heat to bite,” Will reminded him. Hannibal pressed a kiss to his brow. 

“Do you need another massage before we go again?”

Despite himself, Will whispered a soft “please?”

This time, Hannibal used a thick lotion that eased the aches from the straps digging into his skin. It had no scent, allowing Will to keep taking deep breaths of Hannibal. He didn’t want it to be soothing, but the pain and darkness were beginning to get to him. 

The lotion helped Will’s muscles relax, and between that and the massage, he was fully limp when Hannibal lined himself up and removed the plug. 

“We’re going to make sure you have a prostate orgasm this time,” Hannibal said, rubbing reassuringly at Will’s lower back. “I’ll help you if it’s difficult. After, we’ll deal with the problem of your cock.”

Will barely reacted to the statement. He just closed his eyes and forced himself to remain still. He had rubbed his wrists and the join of his elbow raw from struggling. Hannibal had thoughtfully wrapped them in soft bandages, checked on them every time he freed Will’s limbs to massage them.

Now, when Hannibal entered him, he found very little resistance. He had been steadily increasing the circumference of the plugs he used to keep Will filled between sessions, and Will’s body was adjusting. 

As hard as Will fought him, nature was taking its course, was forcing his Alpha form to morph, adjusting to the abuse and pain, to the scent that he responded to, to the touches and praise, to the dedicated fucking Hannibal gave him every few hours; like bottle feeding a pup. Will’s evolution into another dynamic was progressing as it should be.

He responded better, too. When Hannibal brushed his cock against Will’s prostate he gasped, trying to arch back to get more sensation, to prolong the feeling. The pain that had held Will tense and exhausted for the first few hours was still present, but was now overshadowed by the feeling of Hannibal’s hands against Will’s flanks, the sensation of his cock deliberately stimulating his prostate.

Will’s cock was hard and thick, gently tapping up against the underside of the breeding bench as Hannibal fucked him, but he didn’t reach down to touch.

Will whined in displeasure.

“I know,” Hannibal said, rubbing reassuringly at Will’s shoulders. “I know it’s hard, but you can do it.”

There could be nothing more debasing than to  _ want _ Hannibal to touch him, to be aching because Hannibal wouldn't. Will’s face flushed with shame as he squirmed against the bench. 

He’d been tied expertly. His cock fell through a gap in the wood, preventing Will from rutting against the bench no matter how much he wriggled. The most he got was the occasional tap of the head, not nearly enough stimulation to come. 

Will told himself he wasn’t going to beg. He wasn’t going to be complicit in his own rape and torture. 

But there was nothing else to  _ do _ . Nothing but hunger and Hannibal, the thorough massages and the waves of pleasure at the tail end of an uncomfortably thorough fucking. 

Hannibal tilted the bench just a little further, enough to make Will whimper and cling to the wood with his broken nails. Enough to allow Hannibal to grind against Will’s prostate in a near constant tease. 

And he was used to this, now, too, being damn near upside down as he was fucked. He was used to how wide Hannibal spread his legs, adjusting the bench accordingly. The thing was a work of art - the kind of art Hannibal seemed to enjoy most, perverse and erotic, something you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from.

Will was so close. His knot was even swelling a little with every push of Hannibal’s cock against his prostate, with every reminder of just how  _ deep _ Hannibal was getting into Will’s body.

He whimpered when the stimulation wasn’t enough, whined when he could  _ taste it  _ at the back of his tongue, and finally -

“Please, Hannibal,  _ please touch me.” _

“No, lovely boy,” Hannibal told him, soothing his hand up and down Will’s spine. “You will find pleasure this way from now on, on my cock, filling you up, knotting you tight for me.”

“I can’t,”

“Try.”

“I  _ can’t!” _ Will sobbed.

Hannibal always touched him so expertly. Now, his hands skirted everywhere but where Will wanted, teasing sensitive points until Will gasped and his cock twitched. He couldn’t get at Will’s nipples like this, but he could whisper promises against Will’s neck, stories of how thoroughly he’d tease them until they were too red and sensitive for even the soft brush of a silk shirt. He could massage Will’s nape, the curve of his spine, the dimples of his lower back. 

“I can’t,” Will said again, but something was building. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, heat was curling in his belly, 

“Try for me,” Hannibal encouraged. “When you can come like this, you’ll be able to come as often as you like. I’ll give you such pleasure, Will. I’ll recenter your world until the only thing you know is the joy and relief I’ll give you.”

The things Hannibal was saying we’re horrifying, and yet Will gasped and moaned and strained at the straps. He wanted to come. He  _ needed _ to come. He was dangling over the edge of a cliff with no idea how to let go. 

Hannibal’s teeth found the nape of Will’s neck. His knot, swollen and huge and yet not as intimidating as it had been, pushed hard against Will’s entrance. Will sucked in a breath and pushed back, forcing his body to relax. 

The knot slipped in, filling Will until he could barely breathe, and Hannibal bit down. Hannibal’s warm, earthy scent overwhelmed him and the heat in Will’s belly bubbled over. He came screaming, thrashing beneath Hannibal, unable to keep still as his body found new heights it had never known before. 

It seemed to go on forever, endless pulses of heat, thick against the underside of the bench, dripping down onto Will’s sensitive spent cock after. He collapsed, drawing in air like a drowning man, and began to cry.

It felt good. It felt  _ extraordinarily _ good. But Will couldn’t do it anymore. Not the struggle and suffering, the pain and panic, the tension that kept him up at night. Tied to a goddamn bench, unable to move or stretch or reach out. Unable to see sunlight or hear anything besides his own heart beating thick behind his ears until Hannibal came to see him and fucked him raw.

He was tired. He was so tired.

“Hush, Will, sweet thing, sweet boy, my sweet Omega,” Hannibal stroked Will’s hair, drew his knuckles up and down Will’s face, soothing him in the only ways he could while they were tied together. He lay heavy over Will, nuzzling his hair, and started to purr. A low, deep, rumbling warmth to ease Will from his panting, from his hitched breaths and hot tears into something softer, kinder, intimate.

“So good for me,” Hannibal praised him, rocking his hips just gently to fill Will with another pulse of his seed. “So beautiful. My remarkable boy.”

“P-please let me up,” Will sobbed, turning his face against Hannibal’s, breaths coming in quick stuttered hitches. “Please just… just for a minute. Just for a little… little while. please.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Hannibal murmured. “You can have another massage, if you’re hurting.”

Will broke. He snapped in two, sobbing hysterics into the mangled headrest. Hannibal ran gentle fingers through his hair and kissed tears from his cheeks, and the worst part was it felt  _ good.  _

“You’re so close,” Hannibal told him. “I can smell it on you, the blood fresh in your womb.”

“I’m hurting,” Will whispered, “I’m s-so hungry.”

“Just a little bit longer, sweet boy. Can’t you feel it coming?”

Will shook his head. Hannibal ran his lips over the curve of Will’s jaw, so achingly gentle that it hurt anyway. 

He gave Will his massage, lingering over every muscle, even working his thumbs deeply into Will’s palms and the arches of his feet. Will was drifting by the time he was done, too tired and starving to stay awake, too stiff and scared to sleep. 

He was limp enough that he didn’t even protest when Hannibal crouched and worked his flaccid cock into a tiny metal cage. Will should have pitched a fit, but there was nothing left of him to fight and scream.

“It will be another adjustment,” Hannibal said, fingers tugging each piece to make sure nothing pinched, “but soon you’ll find your pleasure is greater like this.”

Even with disbelief rolling in his belly, Will was still quiet, until Hannibal stood to leave. Then, he flinched badly enough that the bench gave a great creak before settling once more. Hannibal turned back to him with a frown. 

“Don’t go,” Will begged. “Please don’t leave me alone down here.”

Hannibal considered the request with a tilt of his head. Will was growing exhausted, of course, but he was also very clever. Should he wish, should he try harder, Hannibal was certain that while he wouldn’t free the man, Will could win himself favors. And it was too early yet for that, Will was still in a very delicate stage of his transition. Hannibal was adding hormones to the IV to help stimulate his body for the change, he was emotional and unpredictable, and -

He was scared.

Lonely.

Hannibal didn’t want that for Will. He didn’t want Will to associate his new dynamic with horrors and darkness, but to embrace it as Hannibal had from the very beginning.

“Please,” Will whispered, eyes wide, bright, bright blue. There was no longer the corona of red around the iris, but no sign of gold either. Hannibal’s heart skipped, just looking at him.

“I can’t bring you upstairs,” he told him softly.

“No, I -” Will swallowed. “Please just stay with me? Just… just until I sleep, until… until next time?”

He couldn’t bear another few hours in the dark alone, mind left to wander and overthink, body trembling as it changed and adjusted to these new circumstances. And Will, in truth, found that he needed to have Hannibal near in order to not panic, now. If he left, even just out of his line of sight, and didn’t touch him, Will’s adrenaline flooded his veins.

Hannibal pulled a stool over from elsewhere in the basement, settling alongside Will’s head. He was close enough to flood Will’s senses with his scent, and Will’s entire body went limp with relief. 

“It’s nearly done,” Hannibal promised him. He ran his hand from Will’s nape down to his ass, a rhythmic motion that lulled Will deeper into his hazy state. 

“It hurts.”

“I know, poor thing, but it will be worth it. You’ll see.”

Slowly, Hannibal’s gentle touches lulled Will into the first true sleep he’d had in the days he’d been locked away. His body and mind gave out, and sleep took him under. 

The next fucking was rough. Will’s sizable cock strained at the tiny, restrictive cage, and no matter how much he begged or complained of pain, Hannibal refused to loosen it. 

“An Omega’s center of pleasure is meant to be internal,” Hannibal lectured. “Perhaps an occasional treat, when things are settled, but for now your body needs to be trained.”

Worse than the lecture, worse than the pain, was that Will’s body  _ obeyed _ . He came every time Hannibal fucked him, easier and easier each time. Hannibal had hooked into the part of Will’s brain that controlled arousal and changed everything. 

“You’re getting wet.”

Will blinked hazily at the blank wall he had been staring at for what felt like forever. For a moment the words didn’t register.

“What?”

“You’re getting wet, Will,” Hannibal repeated, stroking gently just behind Will’s balls. “You’re producing slick.”

Will wasn’t as hazy now as he had been at the beginning; Hannibal was hand feeding him once a day now, and staying with him until Will dozed between sessions. Will could smell Hannibal from the top of the stairs now, and found himself immediately responding; body tensed in pleasure, cock twitching in its constraints, and, apparently, slick.

“That’s not…” possible? Good? Normal?

It wasn’t any of those things, but the fact of the matter was that it  _ was _ .

“Beautiful boy,” Hannibal purred, proud, fingers teasing Will’s ass before pressing in alongside the plug to just the first knuckle. “Good boy, knowing your Alpha.”

Will wanted to protest. He hated the sound of those words on Hannibal’s lips, still didn’t want them to be true.  _ He  _ was an Alpha, he didn’t  _ have one _ . But when he opened his mouth to voice his displeasure, his voice was stolen by the feeling of Hannibal’s tongue probing his rim around the plug.

“Oh!”

Hannibal hummed, pleased, and spread Will slightly before burying his face between his cheeks properly, the sounds he made  _ obscene _ to Will’s ears but the sensation was absolutely extraordinary. Will was panting within moments, his cock aching between his legs, his mind on fire with how good it felt, how desperately he wanted more. He shuddered, toes curling, eyes closed, and felt a release similar to that of orgasm, but much softer, much warmer, and not in his cock.

“Remarkable,” Hannibal praised, breathless, as he pulled back, pressing smeared kisses to Will’s thighs. “A few more times and I won’t need to use lube at all, if you continue to produce it so well.”

Will whined, a spark of terror going through him. He still remembered the first time, still occasionally felt that burn in his fuzzy dreams.

If anything, his whine seemed to please Hannibal even more. 

“Such sweet sounds. Soon you’ll be purring for me.”

Purring would take time, trust, dependence. 

Proper slick, on the other hand, took less than three days. 

Will was beginning to feel warm during their sessions, squirming and whining when Hannibal tried to drape him in the blanket. Hannibal pressed his lips to Will’s forehead to check his temperature and pulled back, pleased. 

“You’re nearly ripe,” He told a confused and sleepy Will. “Let’s check your slick.”

Whatever Hannibal saw when he removed the plug pleased him. He gave Will’s ass a pat, and then, without warning, pressed his cock up against Will’s hole. 

“No, Hannibal, wait!”

He hadn’t been bad, he hadn’t misbehaved or fought. Will panicked, yanking at the straps. 

Hannibal’s cock slid right in. 

“Perhaps not even a few more,” Hannibal murmured, pleased, and started to fuck into Will as he had every other time. Countless, to Will’s mind, in the low 30s by Hannibal’s count. And it didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt better than when Hannibal used lube, somehow. Smoother, warmer,  _ natural _ .

Will moaned. He couldn’t help it.

Hannibal’s soft growl above him felt like a balm over Will’s fevered skin. He was pleased. When he touched Will’s hair, stroked his hand down Will’s back, Will tried to arch into it.

“Look at you,” Hannibal praised him, voice awed. “Absolutely perfect for me. Slick and eager to take me deep. Soon I will induce a heat and fill you up, swell your belly with my seed…”

Will hated the sound of it, but his body  _ loved it _ . Even through gritted teeth his whines of need escaped, encouraging Hannibal to fuck him harder, to torment his prostate in a way that made Will’s entire body shudder, helpless to it.

“The first heat won’t take, still too new. But the next should.” Hannibal continued, grasping Will’s hips and bending over him to whisper into his ear. “And then you’ll be round with our pups, carrying life in your body, extraordinary thing. And I will worship you.”

It would be awful. Terrible and horrifying and Will’s body  _ sang  _ with the thought. 

“All the signs of pre-heat,” Hannibal was saying, “you just need a push.”

And then he twisted his hips and Will could barely breathe. 

“Again!” He begged. He was not typically vocal during sex, but the warmth flooding through him felt like it was melting his brain. Why was he fighting? Why, when he could have this, this  _ contact _ , Hannibal touching him, fluid dripping from his caged cock. 

Hannibal stilled, long enough for Will to whine and tug at his straps. 

“Alright,” he finally said, “of course, sweetheart.”

And then he did it again. 

And again. 

Over and over until Will was coming, his whole body vibrating with the force of it. 

Hannibal followed him over moments later, his knot not even causing an ache when it slipped into Will, just pressure, the sensation of something plugging him up, keeping him warm. Will was shaking, sweaty. He wanted Hannibal to keep fucking him, not to stop, even when he was buried so deep.

And Will could  _ feel _ Hannibal filling him up, when his body tensed and his knot twitched and more seed gathered within him. He could feel it, and it felt  _ good. _ Not like the unwelcome pressure of the very beginning, when Will felt too-full and uncomfortable, but safe. Warm.  _ Not enough _ .

“Hannibal,” he whined, sighing when Hannibal petted his hair, stroking the sweaty strands from his forehead.

“My sweet boy,” Hannibal replied. He sounded relieved. Proud. Pleased. “Such a good, good boy.”

“I -” Will couldn’t say it. His mind rioted against it, his muscles tense with how much his  _ body _ wanted to verbalize his need. “More, please.”

Hannibal rocked his hips gently, his knot tugging at Will’s rim. “Good boy,” he breathed. “Such a  _ good _ Omega.”

He couldn’t give Will what he craved like this, but when his knot receded, he replaced it with two thick fingers. 

It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t what Will  _ needed _ , but the fingers curled so wonderfully against his prostate, teasing the swollen gland until Will sobbed. 

“One more,” Hannibal told him, “and then you’ll need to rest. You need your strength. I think you’re ready for your heat.”

Will cried out, wriggling against the bench, trying to push back against the fingers that filled him. He didn’t have enough focus to be angry. All he cared about was the scent of Hannibal and the pressure pushing him closer and closer to orgasm. 

Hannibal milked him through his pleasure, kissing the divots at the base of his spine as Will keened and shook. He whimpered when Hannibal pulled back, shaking his head. 

“Just a few more hours,” Hannibal told him. “When you wake, I’ll have some new medicine for you.”

When he woke, Hannibal would induce a heat. He would fuck Will through it, sink his teeth into Will’s throat. And then Will would be lost. His new biology would make him helpless to resist his bonded Alpha. 

But he was too tired to worry about it, too exhausted from fighting. “Pet?” He pleaded, closing his eyes. Hannibal obliged. 

Heat, Will noted vaguely, was nothing like a rut. 

During a rut, he’d been desperate, hungry, horny, unsatisfied until he was filling someone deep and working himself to orgasm within them. During heat, Will felt empty, inadequate, as though he wasn’t even  _ entire _ without something filling him up.

And it hurt.

It hurt more than he’d expected heat to.

Another cramp shuddered through him and Will whined, helpless and unhappy. “Hannibal!”

“You smell divine, sweet boy,” the man told him, stroking Will’s hair from his face, nuzzling against him until Will whined again and Hannibal laughed. “Ask properly, Will. Tell me what you want.”

“Make it better,” Will muttered. “Hurts.”

“Not until you call for me,” Hannibal said. “Not until you tell me who I am to you.”

“I want your knot, please!”

“Please…?”

Will groaned, trying to keep himself together, trying to maintain even a little of his former independent self. It was futile and they both knew it. And the futility hurt just as much as his body  _ screaming _ for its Alpha.

“Alpha!” he whined. “Alpha, knot, please!”

It wasn’t his fault, Will told himself. Bound as he was, he couldn’t touch himself, couldn’t stuff himself full. 

(He had forgotten, and never would quite connect the thought again, that this was not his fault because  _ Hannibal _ had done it to him.)

Hannibal was joyous. He cupped Will’s cheeks and kissed him, truly, properly. 

_ Finally.  _

Will hadn’t even known it was something he was missing. It had not occurred to him that Omegas would crave a kiss as much as they craved a knot, but he sobbed when Hannibal pulled away. 

“My good boy,” Hannibal praised, standing and undoing his belt. 

“Yes,” Will gasped as Hannibal removed his slacks and underwear. “Yes, Alpha,  _ knot. _ ”

“Such a good, sweet Omega.”

“Yesss…”

Over time, Will had learned to enjoy being fucked. He’d learned to love it, to crave Hannibal. 

It had been nothing like  _ this _ , this blissful fullness that soothed every ache. 

“Fuck me,” Will begged. “Fuck me, Alpha, oh god.”

“Anything my good boy wants.”

Whether Hannibal fucked him harder, or just as he normally would have Will didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Every motion was too little, everything needed to be arched back into, taken further. He wished he could move, so that he could bend over properly, so that he could present like an Omega was supposed to.

The thought caught Will off guard for a moment and their rhythm faltered, resulting in a brutal but welcome orgasm for Will. He couldn’t even catch his breath before his cock was starting to get hard again. He’d never had this kind of refractory period before, had never been able to quite literally bounce back after spilling himself so eagerly.

Hannibal fucked Will through another orgasm before his own pleasure was overwhelming and he shoved his knot into Will, filling him, feeling Will’s entire body relax at the sensation.

“Yes, Alpha, yes, oh,” Will’s words slurred in pleasure, and he trembled beneath Hannibal as the other leaned over him trying to catch his breath, forehead pressed between Will’s shoulders. Seeing Will like this, succumbing to his new dynamic, accepting his new life, almost brought tears to his eyes.

“Sweet boy,” Hannibal soothed him. “My sweet Omega.”

“Yours,” Will managed with a whimper. “Yours.”

Time made no sense during his heat. Will couldn’t tell if Hannibal had left the room between fuckings or if the fucking never stopped. He started losing stretches at a time, eyes open as Hannibal whispered to him, his knot thick and secure within Will’s body, and at a blink Hannibal was rutting into him, bruising in how hard he pushed himself against Will’s willing body.

Hours. 

Days.

Who knew or cared anymore?

Will came, felt himself filled, took a morsel of food from Hannibal, a sip of water - the IV had been removed for his safety. Rinse repeat. Over and over. In a blissful cycle that Will at once wanted to see the end of and drown in and never climb out.

He came to after another strange loss of time with Hannibal working free the straps holding down Will’s hips, his middle, and the one across his ribs.

“What -”

“Hush, Will, it’s alright.”

Will wondered if it was over. Wondered why he still felt so achingly  _ empty _ if it was. He groaned as Hannibal slid a hand down over Will’s belly, hissed at the pressure there, not painful but very much present, and allowed Hannibal to do what he wanted.

Hannibal adjusted him, moving the pieces of the bench individually. Slowly, he worked Will into an arch, his chest pushed to the bench while his backside was propped up, his belly raised up and free of pressure. Will managed the position for only a few seconds before collapsing, limbs twisting awkwardly in the straps that still held him. His body refused to hold him up after so much time supported by the bench. 

“Hurts!” Will yelped as his hips twisted. Hannibal immediately wrapped an arm around his hips to support him. 

“It’s alright,” he said again, fingers working at the rest of the straps. “Sweet boy, I have you.”

And then Will was free. Every last strap undone. He fell limply against Hannibal, who scooped him up in an effortless bridal carry. He must have weighed almost nothing. 

“Where?” He asked as Hannibal began to move. Another cramp rolled through his stomach. “Alpha, please, I need you.”

Weeks of wanting to be free of this basement, and now all Will wanted was for Hannibal to throw him to the floor and fuck him raw. 

“We will need to work on your physical therapy together,” Hannibal said. “For now, I think you’ve earned a more comfortable nest to spend your heat in.”

“Nest?” Will repeated helpfully. The thought of a pile of blankets and pillows to curl into, something soft against his skin…

Hannibal nuzzled his hair as he took Will upstairs, breathing in the heady fevered sweetness of him as Will shuddered and squirmed in his arms, his heat tearing up his insides seeking to be sated and filled. He took them to the spare room where he’d built up a nest just for this purpose, something to use and then clean up while Will recovered in their bed.

As soon as he laid Will down, Will reached for him with clumsy, weak fingers. “Alpha,”

“I’m here,” Hannibal told him, laying over Will and kissing him deep, swallowing down the helpless whines, the needy little noises Will made against him as he rutted up against Hannibal. God, he was lovely. Cheeks flushed and tear-stained, hair filthy from the days he’d not washed it, and longer. Hannibal broke their kiss only long enough to spread Will’s legs and bend his knees up towards his chest before thrusting in.

The new position was at once heaven and agony. Will hadn’t been moved from the painful bend the bench had kept him in for  _ days _ , and now with every push and shift, his bones popped and clicked, his spine straightening out, his shoulders rolled. He clung to Hannibal like the world was ending, nails leaving red marks down Hannibal’s back, over his arms, fingers tangling in his hair to yank him closer, tongue sliding against Hannibal’s.

The angle was different for fucking, too, and Will found that it took longer to find his release this way. And that was just fine. He was exhausted, he was filthy, he wanted Hannibal to fill him up and knot him and hold him close, and safe, and warm. When he started to get some feeling in his legs he tried to wrap them around his Alpha, whining in distress when he couldn’t hold him.

Hannibal hushed him, kissing Will’s cheek, his jaw, nuzzling his scent gland that had once smelled pleasant, but now was pure ambrosia. He could feel his knot swelling, could feel how desperately Will pushed down against him to take it in, and as he felt it start to breach he opened his mouth and sunk his teeth into Will’s neck, breaking the skin, bonding them together as he pulsed his need within his mate.

_ Peace _ . 

The noise in Will’s head, the fuzzy, terrified static that had lingered, vanished. Will nearly screamed as Hannibal’s teeth, his knot, both filled him as full as he could get. 

There would be nothing else like this, not ever. And whatever else Will felt, hatred and fear and suffering, he could not give this up. Everything was pulsing, his orgasm rolling through him from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair. 

Hannibal pulled back with his lips bloody and his eyes red and bright. Will blinked up at him through a haze of gold. 

“Beautiful,” Hannibal whispered. Will wriggled helplessly. 

He felt like a newborn as he tried to coordinate his limbs, wanting to pull Hannibal close. Hannibal manipulated Will’s body with ease, pinning him chest to chest as his knot pumped another round of seed into him. 

“It pains me that this one won’t take,” Hannibal said, rubbing his palm lightly over Will’s swollen stomach, a stark contrast to the ribs that were beginning to show. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

All Will could do was whine gently and reach for Hannibal again, eyes closing despite how he tried to fight it, his body falling to a doze somewhere comfortable for the first time in what felt like forever.

Will managed to properly present on the third day of his heat, when he was damn near feral and Hannibal looked the least put together Will had ever seen him. He shoved his chest to the nest, fingers gripping the damp sheets, and spread his knees, offering himself to his Alpha, trembling and leaking with his need.

Hannibal was more than happy to oblige, laying claim to the beautiful thing beneath him, uncaring for gentleness and softness when Will so clearly wanted to be tamed and held still. After, they lay panting together, Hannibal buried deep, and Will only half awake, laying on his side. After that the fever began to fade.

When Will woke, clear-headed for the first time since the dinner that had led to all of this, he didn’t flinch away from the heavy body behind him. He let his eyes bring the room into focus, the half-closed curtains, the side tables with their dim lamps, the door to the corridor just slightly ajar, ready for Will to escape through, to freedom. With a groan he stretched, his legs first, toes pointed and ankles rolling, then up, to his knees, to his hips, to his back which he arched up with a very pleased sound, using the motion to turn himself over and bury his face against the hair on Hannibal’s chest. With a yawn, he went back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

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